Beyond Comprehension
by Meluch
Summary: Kara Shepard finds herself a part of something bigger than she could ever imagine after finding the true purpose of the Crucible. Separated from her friends and allies, Kara must prepare for war against the Reapers, and she will take down anyone who gets in her way.
1. Chapter 1

The dreams always ended with an explosion. That is all that she could ever remember, aside from the occasional flashes of blue, red, and yellow. She had been having them for as long as she could remember. Since she was a child. She couldn't actually remember a time in her life when she hadn't dreamed.

A nebulae, glorious. Someone shouting at her, indistinct. Strong, male. The voice brought up strange feelings of loss, of love, of a brother that she had never had.

It didn't matter.

"Shepard?"

Kara Shepard clawed her way back to consciousness, finding herself staring up into deep blue eyes, swirling with amusement. Liara smiled down at her. "EDI wanted me to let you know we are approaching the Sol relay."

Kara nodded, pushing herself up. It was time. The final push. She groaned, stretching as she pushed herself up off the bed, wiping sleep from her eyes. "Are the fleets ready?"

Liara nodded, darting her head down to steal a kiss. "They're waiting for you in the War Room."

Groaning, Kara rolled off the bed, grabbing her service uniform off the floor. "How about you, Li? Are you ready... for this?" She leaned back into Liara's embrace as the asari walked up behind her. "Cause... I don't know... I don't know if I can do this."

"Kara." Liara said the name with such love and devotion, a warm smile on her lips. "You can do this. "Your destiny has already been written, Kara. You'll win this. You were born to defeat the Reapers." Her voice was quiet and reassuring. "You have done something no one in the history of the entire galaxy has ever done! You've united all of the races. Krogan and Turian. Quarian and the Geth! Mercenaries and Admirals. You will win this, because you are Shepard. First human Spectre. Commander of the Normandy. Best friend of Garrus Vakarian, sister of Urdnot Wrex, confidant to the Geth Consensus! You will win because you are Kara Shepard, my love, and the strongest woman in the galaxy!"

Smiling, Kara turned, clutching Liara tight to herself. "I love you, Liara T'Soni," she whispered. "After all of this is over..." She pulled away, opening a small drawer and pulled out a small box. She got to her knees, taking the Asari's hands in her own. "Liara T'Soni, after all of this is over, will you do me the great honor of becoming my wife?"

Stunned, Liara was silent for a long moment. "Shepard... I..." She blinked owlishly. Liara dropped down to her knees, touching her forehead to her lovers. "I love you, Kara. Yes. I will marry you!"

#

"Wake up."

How had everything gone so wrong?

"What... Where am I?" Kara opened her eyes, looking up off the ground to see a child, glowing and brilliant. After everything. The beacon, Eden Prime. Killing Saren, destroying Sovereign... Nazara. Dying, rebuilt by Cerberus. Making it through the Omega 4 Relay, surviving with her entire crew. Falling in love with Liara. Destroying the Alpha Relay, killing over three hundred thousand batarians. Escaping Earth, uniting the galaxy. After everything she had been through, she was right back where she started.

All of this has happened before.

"The Citadel. It's my home." The child spoke.

_You have a gift, Kara. I've always known that, here in my gut, and I am not going to let you piss that away! You're special, don't you understand that?_ An old woman's voice echoed through her head, unfamiliar, and painful all at the same time.

"Who are you?" The pain was fading, becoming numb. Kara couldn't bring herself to care.

"I am the Catalyst." The child was cold, calculating.

There must be someway out of here.

"I thought the Citadel was the Catalyst." Was this how it felt to lose your mind?

_Godsdamn it Kara! You come back! Come back!_

"No. The Citadel is a part of me."

Shepard could barely listen to what the child was saying. Her mind was drifting, drifting faster and faster to... something.

_Momma. Something's about to happen. You know that thing you were trying to prepare me for? I don't know if I can do it._

_Oh yes, you can. You can._

_How can you be sure?_

_You're my daughter._

Kara shook her head, trying to clear away the encroaching darkness. "I need to stop the Reapers. Do you know how I can do that?" Focus, Kara. Focus. Everyone is depending on you. She repeated that, a mantra in her head.

There is to much confusion. I can get no relief.

"Perhaps. I control the Reapers. They are my solution."

That brought Kara back to reality. This child was a Reaper? The Reaper?

"Solution? To what?" She didn't want to ask, but something was guiding this moment.

All of this has happened before, and it will happen again.

"Chaos." The god-child said.

"The Created will always rebel against their creators." The child continued, unknowing, or uncaring of the growing horror in Kara's soul. "But we found a stop that from happening. A way to restore order for the next cycle."

"By wiping out organic life?" She wanted to scream. To shoot the child to pieces.

_I'm here to prepare you to pass through the next door. To discover what hovers in the space between life and death._

"No. We harvest advanced civilizations, leaving the younger ones alone. Just as we left your people alive the last time we were here."

"But you killed the rest." Kara wanted to cry. The god-child simply did not seem to understand. Life was just an anomaly to it. Something that could be destroyed without repercussions.

"We helped them ascend so they could make way for new life, storing the old life in Reaper form."

"I think we'd rather keep our own form." Kara wanted to argue. She wanted to scream, to rage, to blow something to hell... but she couldn't.

No reason to get excited... life is but a joke.

"No. You can't. Without us to stop it, synthetics would destroy all organics. We've created the cycle so that never happens. That's the solution."

Kara found herself thinking of a slim man, straw blonde hair. Scruffy, a knowing smirk on his lips. This god-child was familiar, singing an old tune.

"But you're taking away our future. Without a future, we have no hope. Without hope, we might as well be machines, programmed to do what we're told." Kara wanted the child to understand. It needed to understand! Life was so much more than numbers, statistics!

"You have hope. More than you think. The fact that you are standing here, the first organic ever, proves it. But it also proves my solution won't work anymore."

You and I, we've been through that. This is not our fate.

"So now what?" Kara wanted it done. So close. She could return to Liara after all this was over. As soon as she got back to London, she was finding the nearest priest, captain, or justice of the priest and getting married. Start on making those little blue babies.

"We find a new solution." The god-child simply stated that, like the fate of the galaxy didn't rest on whatever it decided.

"Yeah, but how?" Her voice was barely a whisper. Tired. So tired.

Let us not talk falsely now. The hour is getting late.

"The Crucible changed me. Created new... possibilities. But I can't make them happen. I know you've thought about destroying us. You can wipe out all synthetic life if you want. Including the geth. Even you are partly synthetic."

Her heart felt like it was ready to break. She wanted... no, needed, to return to Liara! She... was afraid.

"But the Reapers will be destroyed?" If she had to die, Kara was going to make sure that her blue lady would be safe. That she would live.

"Yes, but the peace won't last. Soon, your children will create synthetics, and the chaos will come back."

"Maybe..." If anything like the Reapers could be created again, Liara was going to live for at least another nine-hundred years. Her children would live for a thousand years beyond that.

No. She couldn't subject Liara, her dearheart, to that.

"Or do you think you can control us?"

"Huh. So... the Illusive Man was right after all." It was kind of funny that the asshole actually managed to be right in the end.

"Yes, but he could never have taken control, because we already controlled him."

"But I can..." Control the Reapers. She never wanted that much power. All she wanted in the universe was to marry Li, to make little blue babies, and to grow old with her love. But if it was the only choice.

"You will die. You will control us, but you will lose everything you have."

All along the watchtower...

"But the Reapers will obey me?" If this could work...

"Yes." The god-child was silent for a moment, glancing up at Earth, at the stars twinkling beyond.

"There is another solution." It said it almost reluctantly, as if it had no choice in the matter.

"Yeah?" Kara felt her heart jump. There was still hope.

"Synthesis." The god-child simply stated.

"And that is?"

"Add your energy to the Crucible's. Everything you are will be absorbed, and then sent out. The chain reaction will combine all synthetic and organic life into a new framework. A new... DNA."

"I... don't know." Kara couldn't even begin to comprehend what that meant for the galaxy. Her mind flashed to massive robots, a single red eye, slowly moving back and forth.

All of this has happened before, and it will happen again.

"Why not. Synthetics are already a part of you. Can you imagine your life without them?"

Kara couldn't help but look down at herself. It was true. Cerberus brought her back, but she was kept alive through machines. The skin that had sloughed off her arms revealed the intricate synthetics beneath. She already was the embodiment of organic and synthetic life.

"And there will be peace?" This was the thing that truly mattered. If there was no peace, than Kara was out of options.

"The cycle will end. Synthesis is the final evolution of life, but we need each other to make it happen. You have a difficult decision. Releasing the energy of the Crucible will end the cycle, but it will also destroy the mass relays. The paths are open, but you have to choose." The god-child gave Kara one last look before disappearing.

Kara began to move, stumbling towards the middle beam. Synthesis. The only viable option. Life with Liara was impossible, but she could still make sure that her lover was safe.

She brought up her omni-tool for what would be its last use. It flickered unsteadily for a moment before steadying out. "Record message." Kara wheezed out.

"Liara, dearheart... I'm so sorry. I won't be able to join you after this is all over. I'm doing this for you. Please... forgive me. You have a long life ahead of you. Don't spend it mourning me. Move on. I..." Kara tried to choke back a sob, failing. "I love you, Li. Never forget that. I love you!"

She quickly sent the message, sighing in relief as it went through in the clear. In the distance, a Reaper tore a ship in two in with its massive laser.

Kara dropped her gun as she continued struggling towards the middle beam. "Lords of Kobol..." The words came unbidden from her mouth, but they felt right. "Hear my prayer. I don't know if I have a soul or not... but if I do... please take care of it."

Tears streamed down her face as she simply jumped. She felt a sense of rightness as her body, molecule by molecule, was torn apart, joining the catalyst. Whatever was happening, was the will of the gods.

The moment before she lost consciousness, a chorus of a million warriors rang through her head.

"_So Say We All!_"


	2. Chapter 2

_I offer a gift of words. An affirmation of who you are, and who you will become... I see you, your uniform fits as though you were born wearing it. You are a soldier through and through, proud, solitary, alone, but it gives you strength. It is that strength that people are drawn to. It is why you lead, and others follow, without question. You will need that leadership in the battle to come. This may be who you are, but it is not who you will become. It only forms the basis for your future greatness. Remember these words when doubt descends Commander._

There must be someway out of here...

"-per 3. I have a bog-y... -eck it out."

The voice cut through her consciousness. "I am alive." She whispered, her voice unsteady, as if she had spoken a word in her life.

She was alive, and she was flying. If she had been more lucid, she might have questioned the fact that she had no idea how she had gotten here. How she had found herself piloting a viper... How she even knew what a viper was.

The clouds of a majestic nebulae spanned out before her. With an ease that surprised her, she made the viper dance, following wherever she was led. The engines of another viper flared in front of her and she found herself drawn inexplicably forward. This was important. Why, she couldn't answer.

"What the frak?" The radio in her helmet crackled, the surprised voice echoing familiarly in her head. Looking over, she saw him. Major Adama, Lee. Callsign, Apollo.

"Hi, Lee." The words came from her mouth unbidden, but she felt no urge to stop. This felt right.

The Major looked baffled, surprised, afraid, and... hopeful? "Kara?"

"Don't freak out. It really is me." She laughed, blue eyes flashing through her mind, a soft touch. "It's gonna be okay. I've been to Earth. I know where it is. And I'm gonna take us there."

Earth. Home.

With that. Kara found herself pushing all conscious thoughts to the back of her mind, choosing to operate solely on autopilot.

#

Lee had never been so confused in his entire life. It had been two months ago, to the day, almost to the minute, that he had watched Kara die, exploding as her viper was crushed by forces strong enough to rip a battlestar in two. He thought he had put that behind him, that he had begun to heal. Her photo, as he had promised, went up right beside Kat, just like she wanted.

Then the power outage happened. Fleet wide, all ships just went dead in the water. Just as suddenly as it had happened, everything turned on again, without any help from the crews of any of the ships.

What they had found on the dradis was grim, and Lee couldn't help but feel a sense of resignation. The cylons were simply better. They were smarter, stronger, faster. They built ships that could think for themselves. And so, when the dradis flickered back to life, showing a fleet of four basestars, Lee found himself feeling relieved.

After so many years of running, it was finally over. He put on the flight suit for one final time, taking his seat in the viper he thought he would never fly again. It might be over for humanity, but he wasn't going to go down without a fight. There would be no disappearing silently into the night.

The bogey appeared, and Lee acted. "Galactica, Apollo. I'm in viper 3. I have a bogey at my ten. I'm gonna check it out."

If this was how he was destined to go... well, Lee couldn't really think of a better way to die. Strapped to a viper, flying between the stars, quiet surrounding him even as ships exploded around him. "Come on, where'd he go? Where the frak did you go?"

His finger hovered over the trigger, ready to blow the bogey out of the sky. Quietly muttering under his breath, he searched as best he could, swerving in surprise as another viper shot over him, barely missing his own viper's tail-fin. "What the _Frak_?"

Lee found his mind falling completely blank, his muscles going slack. Eyes wide with astonishment, he let out a croak of surprise. This couldn't be real. This had to be a dream, a hallucination. She couldn't be... there was no...

"Hi, Lee."

Her voice cut through him, straight to his heart. "K... Kara?"

Flying alongside him was a viper. Tail number clear as day, 8757NC. The same viper he watched explode two months ago. The same viper that Kara Thrace had died in.

She smiled at him, his heart aching at the sight. "Don't freak out. It really is me." She laughed, a sweet, tinkling sound. "It's gonna be okay. I've been to Earth. I know where it is. And... I'm gonna take us there."

"No." Lee shook his head furiously. "No... no, no, no. This is fraking crazy! I saw your ship blow up!" This had to be a dream. There was no other way for any of this to make sense.

She had the nerve to look confused. She couldn't speak for a moment, her mouth gaping. Her brow furrowed, her eyes narrowing. "'Fraid not." She was still for a moment. "Did you not hear me? I've been to Earth."

Lee let out a chuckle. That proved it. This was a dream. "Earth."

Kara was still, and Lee had to think, even if this was a dream, it was not possible that this was anyone other than Kara.

"... Big blue oceans, fluffy white clouds. You're gonna love it, I promise." There was a hint of desperation in Kara's voice, as if convincing him was the most important thing in the world.

The comms of both their vipers crackled. "All players, Galactica. Threat BR350, Carom 211."

Helo's voice crackled several moments later. "Raptors, lean back as missile pickets. Weapons free."

Kara smiled her shit-eating grin at him. "Don't lose me this time, Apollo."

Lee laughed, belief firmly take ahold of him. This was Kara. This was not a dream. This was all really happening. "Oh, not a chance, Starbuck!"

The fight was glorious. Lee struggled to follow Starbuck. She had always been an amazing fighter jockey, for as long as he had known her. Broke every single record ever made at the academy, and slated for a posting with 112th Night Stalkers, best in the fleet. Then the destruction of the colonies happened and the Galactica was lucky enough to have her. Her guns tore hundreds of cylon raiders from the sky, saved the fleet from certain destruction more than once. Best pilot in the entire fleet. After New Caprica though, she was different, broken. Whatever happened down there had destroyed a vital part of what made her Starbuck.

When she died, it was a loss that the men and women of Galactica could barely recover from. Starbuck, the immortal Starbuck that ate cylons for breakfast, was dead. Morale took a major downturn, and it was all they could do to just keep on surviving.

She had gone down as the best pilot that the colonies had ever seen... but now, here she was, and Lee had never been so amazed in his life. Besides the fact that she had come back from the dead, there was something completely different about her.

Before she flew amazing, but now... now it was like a titan was cutting a swath through the cylons, her ship untouchable, dancing with the grace of an eagle. Not a single bullet was wasted. Every single one she fired hit its mark.

And then it was over. The cylons turned, fleeing back to their ships before jumping away.

The next few minutes were a blur. The next thing that Lee knew was that he was climbing out of his viper, tossing his helmet to a deckhand.

Kara was only a few feet away, staring at the Chief like she had never seen him before in her life. "What the fuck is going on here?" She backed away and the entire crew jumped as her left arm began to... glow, for lack of a better word, and what looked like a blade dropped down. "I'm Commander Shepard, Citadel Spectre! Everyone back the fuck off and tell me what in the world is going on!"

Lee pushed his way through the crowd, looking her in the eyes. The Kara that he had seen just a few moments ago was gone, replaced by someone new. The body was still the same, but this Kara held herself completely different... and was spouting off crazy like it was going out of style.

"Kara? What the hell are you doing? Are you out of your fraking mind?" Lee moved to step forward but stopped when she spun to face him, her body tensing almost imperceptibly, a predator preparing to attack.

#

_I love you Kara. Yes. I will marry you!_

Liara. Somewhere, she was out there. That thought was the only thing keeping me from collapsing to the ground, curling up in a ball and crying out from loss. I can't feel her. I could always feel her on the Normandy, or even when we were separated by solar systems, but now... there was nothing. Our link was silent, her warmth missing.

I don't know where I am. The last thing I remember is pain, my body disintegrating, molecule by molecule. Li's smiling, loving face the last thing in my mind.

Now, I am surrounded by dozens of strange people, dressed in strange clothes, carrying strange weapons that look like they are right out of a museum on earth. They are edging towards me, strange looks on all their faces.

Without another thought, I activate my omni-blade, taking comfort in the fact that it still works. "What the fuck is going on here?" My voice hurts, as if it has been used for a long time. "I'm Commander Shepard, Citadel Spectre. Everyone back the fuck off and tell me what in the world is going on!"

There was no recognition at my name, or even at my tossing out of the fact I'm a Spectre. That got _most_ people's attention. Not many (aside from suicidal krogan) wanted to tangle with the Council's right hand.

"Kara? What the hell are you doing? Are you out of your fraking mind?" A tall man pushed himself through the crowd, and I have to admit, if I wasn't so madly in love in Liara I would think that he was kind of cute. But I was, and I felt no need to even contemplate cheating. I am happily engaged, thank you very much.

"Stay back!" I point at him with my blade. I'm on the verge of collapsing, and I am in a strange place surrounded by people I have never seen before in my life. Blackness is clawing at the edges of my vision, threatening me with unconsciousness. "Where... where am I?"

"Starbuck!"

I kept my eyes trained on the man staring at me. Why someone would be shouting about a Starbucks was unknown to me, but it was unimportant.

"Kara!"

I looked up finally. An old man stood on a catwalk, in a uniform I have never seen before in my life. Cerberus?... no, they would never build... whatever this is? A ship, maybe? A new faction of humans?

Wait, I don't give a shit.

_Rest, my love._ Liara's voice rang through my head, embracing my mind, calming my thoughts. _All is happening as it should. _

And with that, I dropped into the sweet realm of unconsciousness.


	3. Chapter 3

Doctor Sherman Cottle grumbled through his teeth a briskly lit a cigarette, one of his quickly dwindling supplies and made a quick mental note to 'confiscate' more from the first person with any spares that entered his sickbay. It had been quiet for the past few days, and there was very little for the Chief Medical Officer to actually do. "Bloody miracle..." he muttered to himself. "People not falling over themselves in sickness..."

He spun around in surprise as the hatch slammed open and a squad of Galactica's marines rushed inside. He blinked as another four entered, carrying a stretcher between.

"What the frak is going?" Cottle stepped forward, taking a deep drag from his cigarette. "Who is this?"

"We were hoping you could tell us, Doctor." Admiral Adama stepped into the sickbay, Colonel Tigh following closely behind him.

Cottle looked between the two of them before turning to inspect the stretcher. "Well..." He raised his thick eyebrows in surprise. "What in the name of the gods?" Turning to look at the Admiral, "What do you expect me to do with her?"

"I want to know everything. She was dead, for gods sake. If she's a cylon, we need to know!" Adama motioned for the marines to put Kara on on one of the beds. "No one is to know about this, Doc." He turned and walked out, along with Tigh. Two of the marines took of watch beside her bed, the rest following the Admiral out.

Cottle stared down at the woman on the bed for a moment. "Well... frak."

#

_"All of this has happened before, and it will happen again."_

_Kara found herself standing in a dark forest, trees dead of life. Whispers of a thousand voices echoed on the wind. _

_"There are those who believe that life here, began out there, far across the universe, with tribes of humans who may have been the forefather of the Egyptians, or the Toltecs, or the Mayans. Some believe that there may yet be brothers of man who even now fight to survive far, far away, amongst the stars."_

_Kara watched a young boy, his face covered in tears. She watched his look of horror as the unmistakable sound of a Reaper filled the forest. He turned and ran, away from Kara. No matter how fast she ran, she couldn't catch up to him._

_"All of this has happened before, and it will happen again."_

_Kara stopped, dropping to her knees. She let out a cry of pain, of loss, of everything that she had tried so hard to bury during the war. _

_"Shepard. Thrace. Kara. Starbuck. Spectre. Commander. Captain. Butcher of Torfan. You are known by many names, dear one. For all of your lives, you have protected humanity and her allies in every cycle. But like in every cycle, you have lost. That has been your destiny."_

_The boy was always faster than her. She couldn't catch him._

_"Until now."_

_Kara gave up. It wasn't worth it. She could never save him. Never save anyone. Garrus was dead because she wasn't fast enough. Legion was dead because she wasn't fast enough. Dear, sweet Liara was dead... DEAD! All because she wasn't enough!_

_"Dear one, the time has come. It has finally come for you to overthrow the shackles that have held you back for so long, to take the place that you have always been destined for."_

_She cried. Cried for everything she would never see again._

_"No. No, dear one! You will see them again. You will see all of them again, and everything will be as it should have been. You will have a long life with your love! Now though, you must remember. You will it for where are going."_

#

"I have no way to explain it."

The gruff voice of Doc Cottle was the first thing that she heard upon her return to consciousness. Kara kept her eyes firmly shut, making sure not to make any moves, trying to pretend that she was still asleep. That this, all of this, was just a dream.

"What do you mean, Doc?"

The voice of Admiral Adama was disconcerting for Kara. She didn't know how, but she remembered him. And she remembered Admiral Steven Hackett. Between the two... she would put her money on Hackett. That man could be far more ruthless than Adama had the capability to be.

"I don't even know how in the world she is alive." Never before had she ever heard Cottle so frazzled.

Kara wanted nothing more than to scream. She didn't know these people! There was no way that she could. But... all of the memories where there. Everything that the woman named Kara Thrace had ever experienced, just sitting and waiting at her fingertips.

"I am almost one-hundred percent certain that she's _not_ a cylon," Cottle continued. She could imagine him puffing furiously on a cigarette. "Other than that, there are things that I just can't explain."

"What do you mean, doctor?"

Ah, Roslin. School-teacher turned president, if Thrace's memories were correct.

"I just want to say first," Cottle paused, sounding extremely unsure of himself. "I have never seen anything like this before in my life. I see evidence of extreme trauma. The type of stuff that would put anyone in the morgue for good. Every bone in her body looks like they've been shattered, her muscles... looks like they were thrown inside a blender."

"How is she still alive?" Roslin again.

"Whatever did that to her, it happened in the past." Cottle was silent for a moment. "It looks like someone rebuilt her. Her bones have pieces of reinforced metal grafted into them that none of my tests could identify, but thats not even the half of it. Every single bone of her body has been... changed. There's something woven through them. I doubt anything short of a viper crashing on her could break anything."

"So the cylons rebuilt her!" Roslin sounded smug, as if she was proud of being right.

"NO!" Cottle sounded angry. "Whoever did this to her... it wasn't the cylons."

"How can you be sure, doctor?" Adama was always respectful.

"The cylons are more advanced than us, but I've seen enough of their kind to recognize what they could and couldn't do. The woman lying in that bed has had organs replaced! She is partly synthetic! Her heart is only beating because of an implant so advanced that Baltar would give up sex to get his hands on it. Her eyes aren't real, but I would bet you anything that she can see better than any of us here, possibly in other spectrums. And then there is the matter of the implant."

"Implant? What are you talking about, doctor?" Roslin. Kara felt the urge to slap her.

"At the base of her neck, there is a tiny implant. I don't know what it does, but it connects to her entire nervous system. The cylons would be extremely hard-pressed to replicate it."

There was silence for several long moments before Roslin spoke. "Wake her up. I want to speak to her."

"Very well."

Kara barely managed to resist cringing as a needle pierced her neck, and moments later she could feel energy coursing through her body. She opened her eyes to see the two marines standing at the foot of her bed, their rifles steadily trained on her heart. Roslin, Adama, and Cottle were standing behind the marines, watching her warily.

The room was silent for what felt like hours, before Roslin stepped forward. "Who the frak are you?"

"Commander Kara Shepard, Citadel Spectre, Service Number 5923-AC-2826." Kara rifled off the familiar answer, her face becoming a stony mask of indifference. She stared icily up at the ceiling.

"How did you get here?" Roslin pushed, her eyes glinting dangerously.

"Commander Kara Shepard, Citadel Spectre, Service Number 5923-AC-2826."

Roslin was silent for a moment, sending a questioning look to Adama. He stared back, frowning, before giving a brief nod. "Take her to the brig," he ordered the marines.


	4. Chapter 4

All of this has happened before.

Those words repeated endlessly inside Kara's head. The walls of the brig were rough and rusted, and not very comfortable, but she payed the sharp bolt digging into her back no mind. There were far more important things to figure out after all.

Like how she had the memories of two full lifetimes inside her head.

Kara Thrace and Kara Shepard.

Both human women, both soldiers. But it seemed that was where the similarities ended. Kara Thrace was born on Caprica, the richest of twelve colony worlds, with no knowledge of aliens. The twelve colonies were destroyed due to the creation of artificial intelligence, the Cylons. Kara Shepard was born on Mindoir, the Systems Alliance made the twelve colonies look backwater. Aliens, instantaneous travel across the entire galaxy, and a race of sentient machines hell-bent on culling all intelligent life from the galaxy where reality.

"Kara..."

She was pulled from her thoughts at the questioning voice. Looking up, she found a tall man standing in the cell. Surprised, Kara scrambled to her feet. She hadn't heard anyone enter.

The man was looking at her with an odd look of confusion, anxiousness, fear, and... hope. His name flashed through Kara's mind, and with it, a feeling of dread.

Samuel T. Anders. Kara Thrace's husband.

It was at that exact moment that Kara discovered that she was completely Shepard. Thrace was just memories. She only felt a desire to find a way to return to Liara. Sam held absolutely no interest for her, except maybe as a means to get back to her fiance.

"Sam." Crossing her arms over her chest, she shuffled uncomfortably. "I..."

Sam's eyes lit up as she said his name and stepped forward, his arms out like he was going to embrace her. "Kara!"

"Whoa!" Holding up her hands, Kara stepped back, feeling incredibly uncomfortable about the situation. "Look... Sam. It's... It's... It's not what you think."

Saying that, Kara realized she had broken the silence that she had planned on keeping until she could find a way to escape. Standard operating procedure would be to only reveal her name, rank, and service number. That was becoming less and less of an option as the situation continued.

And what the hell! She was a Council Spectre. If anyone was suited for a contact situation like this, it would be her.

"Kara, what are you talking about?" He looked at her odd. Like he didn't know what the hell she was talking about. Which, he probably didn't. "My wife just came back from the frakking dead! This is the best day of my life!"

Kara winced. "Look, Sam..." This was going to be hard to explain. She suddenly wished that she was facing a Reaper on foot, with a pistol, instead of having to explain this to Sam. "You should get the Admiral and the President. I don't want to explain this more than once."

Sam stared at her for a moment before he nodded. The door opened and he stepped out before the door slammed shut again, leaving Kara alone with her thoughts once more.

This meeting was going to suck.

#

By Kara's reckoning, about an hour later, Galactica's marines entered her cell and escorted her to the Admiral's quarters. The trek through the halls was strange. It was filled with faces that filled her memories, Tyrol, Cally, Dee, Hotdog. It felt strange that she felt no personal connection to any of them.

Her escort opened the Admiral's door and ushered her inside before shutting the door back behind her. They took up guard position outside.

Inside, she found the most powerful men and women in the fleet waiting for her. Admiral Adama, Colonel Tigh, and Major Adama stood waiting for her. On the small couch, President Roslin and her aide, Tory Foster sat staring at her icily. Sam stood leaning against the wall, looking incredibly confused. Dr. Cottle just smoked uncaring on what looked like a stump of a cigarette.

"You wanted to speak to us?" Roslin was the first to speak. Her gaze seemed to bare into Kara's soul and it would have made a lesser person flinch.

Luckily, Kara was not a lesser person. She had hung up on the most powerful people in the galaxy, multiple times. A school-teacher turned president, she just couldn't measure up to people who controlled over hundreds of billions of sentient beings, with militaries that would chew the colonial fleet to pieces, before the cylon invasion of course.

Nodding to President Roslin, Kara fell into parade rest. "I do, yes." She paused, unsure where to begin. Roslin shot Adama a look that Kara couldn't quite decipher.

She decided to start with the most obvious thing. "I am not Kara Thrace."

A chorus of protest met her simple sentence. Kara waited for them to quiet down before speaking again.

"I am not Kara Thrace," she reiterated, noticing that Sam seemed to want to protest again. "My name is Commander Kara Shepard. I was born on the planet Mindoir and I am a commander in the Systems Alliance marines."

"Kara, what the frak are you talking about?" Sam wasn't able to stay quiet, and he looked at her like she had grown another head. "You're not making any sense!"

Kara took a deep breath before turning to look at Sam. "None of this makes sense, but I know for a fact that I am not Kara Thrace." She let out a quiet sigh, wishing that someone, somewhere, had had the foresight to train her for a situation like this. First contact was the only thing that came to mind and that didn't really work. "President Roslin, as a right-hand of the Council, I am within my rights to grant this fleet asylum from cylons. I can help the fleet get to Earth.

Roslin shakily pulled off her glasses. "Earth." The president said word reverently. "You know where it is?"

"Yes, ma'am." Kara nodded.

The President was silent for a moment, looking incredibly torn, before her face hardened and she made up her mind. "How do I know you are telling the truth? You look a lot like Kara Thrace to me, how do I know you weren't brainwashed by the cylons to lead us astray?"

Kara wanted to groan. Politicians always needed the truth fucking laid out for them step by step. "Ma'am, you have no reason to trust me. For all you know, I could just be crazy. I could be Kara Thrace, brainwashed by the cylons... but I'm not."

"What is this council that you keeping referring to?" Adama spoke up, his expression hard to read.

THIS was a question Kara was more qualified to answer. "The Council is the governing body of the Citadel, the political, cultural, and financial capital of the galactic community. The Council is comprised of a single representative from the Asari Republics, the Turian Hierarchy, the Salarian Union, and the Systems Alliance. They have no official power of the individual governments, but the Council's decisions carry tremendous weight. I am a Citadel Spectre, right hand of the council. I can speak on their behalf in this situation."

"This situation?" Roslin was still eying Kara warily.

"First contact," Kara simply stated.

The room fell dead silent and everyone stopped moving.

Adama blinked. First contact... everyone enlisted in the Colonial Fleet knew what First Contact meant. The galaxy was a large place, and the fleets had only begun to explore the outer limits of the solar system before the Cylon's attacked. But this... no one expected to ever actually have to use the F.C. Guidelines.

"First Contact," Roslin stood up, walking to stand toe to toe with Kara. She had a smug smile on her face, "But you're human. How can this be a first contact situation?"

"I am human," Kara began. "But the Citadel only recognizes the Systems Alliance as humanities government. They have no knowledge of the Colonies, or Kobol, or even the Colonial Fleet. This is very much a First Contact situation."

"President Roslin, Admiral Adama," Kara continued, straightening up, "As of today, The Citadel Council offer asylum to the Colonial Fleet from the Cylons."

"I'm going to need some proof before I even begin to entertain this..." Adama waved his hand in the air, "fairy-tale."

Raising her arm, Kara activated her omni-tool, startling the men and women in the room. With a quickness that came from years of practice, she projected a hologram of the Citadel. "This is the Citadel. It was built so long ago that no one even remembers the name of the race that constructed it. It is 44 kilometers long, with a population of 13.2 million. Last time that I checked, it was parked in orbit above Earth."

She began typing again, "For the past year, the galaxy has been teetering on the edge of a sword. Your fleet must have been small enough to avoid attention, but the rest of us have been on the edge of extinction." With a flourish, she brought up her suit recordings from Virmire.

The most powerful men and women in the fleet could only watch, astounded. Obviously recorded with a helmet cam, the video showed a large walkway. What looked like a massive hologram of a cuttlefish appeared before the end of the walkway.

"**You are not Saren.**" The voice boomed from an unknown source.

Kara flinched at the horrifying voice of Sovereign, but she didn't stop playing.

"What is that, some kind of VI interface?" A heavily accented female voice said from off the screen. Admiral Adama couldn't help but think that she sounded sagittaron.

"**Rudimentary creatures of blood and flesh, you touch my mind, fumbling in ignorance, incapable of understanding,**" The massive voice continued, and everyone in the room shifted uncomfortably. There was just something... evil, about it. Terrifying, the thing of nightmares.

"I do not think this is a VI," another female voice asked from off-screen, softer and smoother.

"**There is a realm of existence so far beyond your own you cannot even imagine it. I am beyond your comprehension. I am Sovereign.**"

"Sovereign isn't just some Reaper ship Saren found. It's an actual Reaper!" Everyone in the room recognized Kara as she spoke in the video.

"**Reaper. A label created by the Protheans to give voice to their destruction. In the end, what they choose to call us is insignificant. We simply are**." Sovereign continued, his voice seeming to seep from the video, ringing from the very bulkheads of Adama's quarters.

"The Protheans vanished fifty-thousand years ago. You could not have been there. That's impossible!" The softer voice spoke again and Sam watched as Kara smiled at its sound. Sam felt a sinking feeling in his stomach.

"**Organic life is nothing but a mutation. An accident. Your lives are measured in years, and decades. You wither and die. We are eternal. The pinnacle of evolution and existence. Before us, you are nothing. Your extinction is inevitable. We are the end of everything.**" The bulkheads rumbled, the voice of Sovereign becoming a presence.

"There is an entire galaxy of races united and ready to face you!" A hand cut enthusiastically across the screen, making a point.

"**Confidence born of ignorance. The cycle cannot be broken.**" The air grew thicker in the room, darker. Sovereign reaching out from beyond the grave.

"Cycle? What cycle?" The accented woman again. She sounded young. Barely beyond a child.

"**The pattern has repeated itself more times than you can fathom. Organic civilizations rise, evolve, advance. And at the apex of their glory, they are extinguished. The Protheans were not the first. They did not create the Citadel. They did not forge the Mass Relays. They merely found them, the legacy of my kind.**"

"Why would you construct the Mass Relays and then leave them for someone else to find?" The video moved closer to the massive hologram.

**"Your civilization is based on the technology of the Mass Relays, our technology. By using it, your society develops along paths we desire. We impose order on the chaos of organic evolution. You exist because we allow it. And you will end, because we demand it.**"

"They are harvesting us! Letting us advance to level that they need, then wiping us out!" The soft voice spoke again.

"Where did you come from? Who built you?" Kara's voice was angry.

**"We have no beginning. We have no end. We are infinite. Millions of years after your civilization has been eradicated and forgotten, we will endure.**" Sovereign ignored Kara's anger.

"What do you want from us? Slaves? Resources?" Kara was shouting now, the helmet cam shaking as she pointed at the hologram.

"**My kind transcends your very understanding. We are each a nation. Independent, free of all weakness. You cannot even grasp the nature of our existence.**"

Roslin watched the video flabbergasted. If this was real... how could the cylons be a threat compared to this? Whatever _this_ was. She could practically hear malevolence rolling off Sovereign. The cylons just couldn't compare.

"Where are the rest of the Reapers? Are you the last of your kind?" Kara spoke again, trying to get any last bit of information that she could.

**"We are legion. The time of our return is coming. Our numbers will darken the sky of every world. You cannot escape your doom.**" Sovereign seemed to loom over everything, a deep menacing presence, even through video, suffocating everyone in the room.

"You're not alive. Not really. You're just a machine. And machines can be broken!" Kara was insistent, a tone of protest in her voice.

"**Your words are as empty as your future. I am the vanguard of your destruction. This exchange is over.**" With a crash, the hologram of Sovereign disappeared.

Kara shut off the video projection, letting the room stew in silence for several moments.

"Three years ago," she spoke softly. "A rogue Spectre named Saren was indoctrinated by what the galaxy later learned to be Reapers, ancient sentient machines that obliterate all civilized life every fifty-thousand years. That was the vanguard of the Reaper invasion, Sovereign. He attacked the Citadel, and it took the combined power of the Citadel Defense Fleet and the Systems Alliance Fifth Fleet to take him down. That was just one Reaper."

Kara stopped, silent, waiting for any questions. There were none. Adama and Roslin were contemplative and the rest were deferring to their superiors.

"The Reapers invaded a year ago," Kara continued, projecting ship cameras of battles against the Reaper. "We were losing ground on every front. For every Reaper we destroyed, we lost more men and ships than we could spare."

Kara projected an image of Earth as the Normandy came through the Mass Relay with the rest of the fleet. "Earth was the first planet hit, and it is where the galaxy made its final stand. We won, but we took many losses. I have to get back to Earth."

Roslin and Adama looked at each other for several long moments, communicating silently. Adama nodded and Roslin stood. Turning to Kara, she took a deep breath. "We are going to have to think over what you have told us."

The guards entered the room and escorted Kara out. The door swung shut, leaving them only with their thoughts. Kara found herself back in the brig. At least this time around, they brought her something to eat.

#

The room was silent for several long moments. Sam looked shell-shocked. Lee was impossible to read. Roslin paced back and forth, while Adama poured himself a glass of Ambrosia. If any situation warranted dipping into his dwindling supply, this was it. He gulped it down quickly. Colonel Tigh looked like he wanted to laugh and Doc Cottle just puffed on his cigarette.

"What the frak was that?" Lee was the first to speak.

No one answered.

"Are we going to take her seriously? That was Kara Thrace!" Lee gestured wildly with his hands. "She's crazy! Obviously the cylons are behind all of this. They brainwashed her or something, like they did with Sharon."

"Hey!" Sam shouted indignantly. "That's my wife your talking about. She's been held captive by the Cylons before. If they didn't break her before, they wouldn't be able to do it now! And how could the cylons have had her when you saw her die?"

Lee frowned at that. "Then how could she have come back? Did she _really_ die, Sam? The cylons can trick us!"

"I'm with Lee on this one." Tigh spoke up, his gruff voice full of suspicion. "This is some sort of cylon trick."

"Keep this to yourself. If I hear that any of you have been talking..." Adama let what would happen go unsaid. "Leave us."

There was a pause before everyone began to leave the room. Roslin stayed sitting on the couch.

The bulkhead slammed shut with a bang.

Adama poured another glass of ambrosia, handing it Roslin, who took it gratefully. Adama sunk down onto the couch next to her as she emptied the glass. "Gods! I needed that."

With a dry chuckle, Adama leaned back, shutting his eyes. "I don't know about you, but that certainly was not what I was expecting."

Roslin nodded, "Do you believe her?"

The Admiral was still for several long moments, before, to Roslin's surprise, he nodded. "I do. Call me crazy, but I do."

"What?" He flabbergasted expression was enough to make Adama laugh.

"I trust Cottle," he began his explanation. "He has been around Cylons, hell, he even worked as a doctor for them on New Caprica. If he says that the cylons have nothing to do with this, then I believe him." He poured another glass of Ambrosia, draining it down. "Then there's the footage. I have seen faked footage... that was not it. It was to real. The emotions on Kara's face, you can't fake that type of reaction."

"But its so..." Roslin gestured with her hand, searching for the right word.

"Fanciful?" Adama smiled. "It is, but it is so far beyond anything that we imagined waiting for us..." He laughed again. "I can't help but think that she is telling the truth."

AN: Unbeta'd


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER ONE

Fourth Horseman

The moment Sam exited the Admiral's quarters, he took off running towards the brig. The magnificent and unbelievable story that Kara had woven had only brought up more questions than he had to begin with. The way that she spoke worried him, to say the least. It made his stomach churn. This woman in Kara's body didn't seem like his wife.

His Kara was loud, brash, rude, and completely like this stranger. This Kara held herself with a grace and poise that made her entire ridiculous story... believable.

The guards opened the door to the brig and it seemed to move remarkably slow to Sam's perception. He couldn't get inside fast enough. The questions were brimming in his mind and they needed to come out as quickly as possible.

The moment that the brig door closed again, Sam found himself watching this woman in Kara's body pace back and forth inside the cage, her face furrowed in frustration and anger. She payed no mind to Sam's entrance, but she might have been so wrapped up in her thoughts that she didn't notice.

"Kara?"

She stopped her pacing and whipped around to face him, almost faster than Sam could track, ready for a fight at a moments notice. She relaxed when she saw that it was him, her muscles loosening, and her blue eyes loosing their cold steel look. Kara was silent for a moment before giving him a grim smile in greeting. "Sam."

They stood there in silence for what seemed like an eternity.

Sam was the first to break the uncomfortable silence. "What happened Kara? You aren't acting like yourself. I want my wife back!"

Lips pursing, Kara looked Sam directly in the eyes. "Sam... I'm not Kara Thrace-"

"What do you mean?" Sam cut her off, "You were born on Caprica, and your mother was a complete bitch! You are my wife!"

Shaking her head, Kara turned her back on Sam. "I remember growing up in Caprica City, I remember Socrata Thrace, I remember marrying you... but I'm not Kara Thrace. I have all of her memories, but I am not her!"

"You see," Sam wanted to shout, to scream, to rage against the gods, but he tried his hardest to keep his voice even. Kara Thrace didn't respond well to confrontations, and something told Sam that this woman would take it even worse. "I don't understand that. You are her. You have her face, you have her face, you have her body! How are you not her?"

Turning back to face him, Kara closed her eyes. "The one thing you need to get through your head right now, Sam, is that I am not your wife. I might look like her, I might be her all the way down to my DNA. BUT, I am Commander Kara Shepard. I might have Thrace's memories, but that is all they are. Just memories. They hold no importance to me, like I'm watching someone else's life. And I have to say, Thrace's life sucks. I can see in her memories that she lived constantly on the edge, pushing everyone who could help her away."

Kara started to pace again in the cage, like an untamed animal, itching to be released. "I have faced things that you cannot possibly imagine, I've already saved the galaxy twice! The only way that I was able to achieve everything that I have is because of the team at my back. They are my family, and I left them in the middle of a war so horrible that entire arms of the galaxy have been wiped clean! I sacrificed myself for my fiance! I didn't want her to die at the hands of the Reapers, but instead of heaven, or nirvana, or whatever the hell kind of after life that I could have hoped for I find myself on this backasswards fleet being pursued by machines that I could rip apart with my hands, wondering if everything that I have accomplished is for nothing."

Kara grew cold, and Sam found himself backing up in recognition of an absolutely deadly predator. "I will do absolutely anything that I need to to get back to the people I left behind. I will rip this fleet apart if I need to, because in the grand scheme of things, 30,000 people is nothing compared to the lives that still stand to be lost if the Reapers haven't been stopped. I destroyed a solar system with 300,000 lives to stall them for six months, and I won't hesitate to do it again. I am a Citadel Spectre, and the galaxy is at war. It is my job to make sure that the races I have sworn to protect survive. Get that through your fucking head right now, or get the hell away from me."

With that, Kara dropped to the floor and started to do push-ups.

Sam couldn't get out of the brig fast enough. The woman inside of the cage was not Kara Thrace. She wasn't his wife.

#

It was the next day that Shepard found herself escorted from the brig back to the Admiral's quarters. This time only the President, Doc Cottle, and the Admiral himself were waiting for her. The moment that the door was fully shut, she found the interrogation began immediately.

"How can we be sure that you're telling the truth?" President Roslin sat forward, her eyes narrowed. "All we have is your word and some video that could be faked."

Shepard stared at Roslin, once again wondering why she didn't just kill all politicians that she came across. It would have solved so many problems in her past. "I don't care if you believe me or not. The galaxy is bigger than your little problems, and I need to get back to it. If you can't deal with it, please let me know now."

The three colonials were silent. Shepard nodded in satisfaction.

"What happened to you?" Cottle was the next to speak. "I'm looking at your X-Ray's, and you should be dead from what I'm seeing. You've been rebuilt from the ground up, and I don't know how you're standing there alive!"

"I shouldn't be," Shepard glanced away. "Alive, I mean."

She took a breath before continuing. "Six months after Sovereigns defeat the Council had me hunting down Geth when my ship was attacked by what we later learned to be a race known as the Collectors. I died, and I was dead for the next two years."

"Then how are you standing here now?" Roslin questioned suspiciously.

"A pro-human organization spent those two years, and four billion credits rebuilding me." Shepard ignored the looks that the three gave her. "They brought me back from the dead so that I could fight back the Collectors. They had spent the two years I had been dead harvesting millions of humans from outside Council space."

"When the Collectors destroyed my ship," Shepard had to fight to keep herself from falling back into the memories. "I was spaced and sucked into the gravity well of a nearby planet. It was only because of my armor that there was even enough remains to piece me back together, charred as they were."

Roslin, Cottle, and Adama sat, digesting the information that the civilization that this woman in Kara Thrace's body came from had the ability to bring people back from the dead. The power and technology that must have been required boggled all of their minds.

"Do you really know the way back to Earth?" Adama asked the question that was on all their minds.

Kara was silent for several moments. "I can get you to Earth, but I'm not sure that you would want to go there. It is the center of the Reaper invasion at the moment."

"Take us to Earth," Roslin didn't seem to hear Shepard, or understand the threat that Reapers actually represented.

In her head, Kara debated on whether or not she cared enough about the Colonial Fleet to send them into the battleground that was Earth and her solar system. She decided that no, she didn't care. She had watched entire worlds, far more populated than all twelve colonies of Kobol, burn, their populations harvested and turned into a paste to construct new Reapers. These 30,000 survivors were nothing, expendable. Getting back to Earth to finish the fight was all that mattered.

"Get me star charts. I can plot the course." She knew that there would be people who condemned her for this far down the line, but it didn't matter. Shepard would be happy if there were people to condemn her in the future at all. Everything would be worth it if there were.

#

Actually plotting the course to Earth took a little under a week. It was only due to the fact that she had returned with the omni-tool that Shepard was able to do it at all. The little machine was a life-saver, and she doubted that even now the Colonials knew how powerful it really was. The journey itself would be approximately one-hundred jumps from their present location to get to the Sol System, and both Admiral Adama and President Roslin had decided that it would be a wise idea to send a scout first to make sure that that it wasn't just another wild goose chase.

It was only thanks to Shepard's amazing talent as a speaker that she was able to talk both leaders of the Fleet to allow her to go with the ship they were using as a scout.

The Demetrius was not a proud ship by any sort of means. A sewage processing ship, it was the only non-essential, FTL capable ship in the entire Fleet.

Kara found herself part of the crew with six other me and women from Galactica. The stench was horrible, and she could only imagine that it was going to get worse as time passed. Getting to Earth should only take around two weeks, barring any catastrophic failures. It was planned to meet the Fleet at a different location in a month and a half's time.

The moment they first jumped, Kara was already praying that she wasn't messing everything up horribly.

#

_AUTHOR'S NOTE: As a note, I am writing Mass Effect technology from the viewpoint that they are advanced enough to make Artificial Intelligence, to create ships and weapons that would boggle us today, and to have created a burgeoning empire in the stars. I am playing up some of their technology and adding things that they lacked in the game, simply because it makes sense to me that they would have them._

_Also, I absolutely wish that the Mass Effect 3 extended cut had simply been released with the game to begin with._


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

The Demetrius

Kara sat on the bunk in her quarters, staring at the rusted, oily wall across from her. Something was horribly wrong here. It had been from the start, but she only was now beginning to recognize it.

On the Citadel, the god child had given her three options: destroy, control, and synthesis, but the longer that Kara kept thinking about, the entire situation just seemed off. Why would the controller of the Reapers allow her to change the cycle that it had been created to propagate. It didn't make any sense.

The men and women onboard the Demetrius always had an eye on her whenever she entered a room, watching for a single step outside the line, always ready to put her down. It was really beginning to grate on Kara's nerves, especially considering the fact that she could take down everyone onboard without a problem. She let them be for the simple fact that it would be harder to pilot the ship all by her lonesome.

Wrapping the thin cot blanket around her shoulder, she pulled her knees up to her chest. Kara had a strong feeling that none of this was supposed to happen, at least according to the god-child's plan. There was something bigger at work here. Bigger than the Colonial's problems, bigger than the Reaper war.

Slowly, Kara nodded off into the realm of unconsciousness.

#

_The universe spread out before her, galaxies twinkling like a trillion stars. Kara hung in the great void between galaxies, dark space, dressed simply in her N7 armor. It was peaceful here, quiet, far away from the Reapers, far away from the Colonial Fleet. _

_ For the first time in what felt like forever, Kara Shepard felt calm, the stress of her life distant, holding no sway over her here. She simply watched as galaxies formed, grew, and then extinguished. Billions upon billions of years passed by, all in the blink of an eye. _

_Through it all, Kara watched, entranced by creation playing out before her very eyes. Somewhere in the back of her mind she realized for the first time how small all of her achievements had been. Insignificant compared to THIS!_

_A chorus of a trillion souls sand behind her and Kara turned. She found herself engulfed in pure light, cascading across her face, caressing her gently, lovingly. Kara vaguely noted that her armor had disappeared, leaving her as naked as the day that she had been born, but it didn't affect her. Never before in her entire life had something felt so right as this moment. As the light flowed over her, unknown feelings overwhelmed her and tears began to well in her eyes at the beauty of it all. _

_Peering through the light, Shepard found herself gazing into the face of all the souls that had lived before. The current races were the least represented. She recognized Protheans, but beyond that, there were countless others she had never even dreamed of before. They all gazed back at her, unflinching, smiling, encouraging. _

_Mordin, Thane, and Anderson stood at the front. Kara's heart swelled at the sight, Anderson giving her a sharp salute before cheekily giving her a thumbs up. Mordin held a bag of sea-shells, his familiar grin warming her soul. Thane stood with an attractive female drell, Irikah, their hands clasped lovingly together. Irikah mouthed a 'Thank you' to Kara._

_ "They stand for you, Shepard." A voice unlike any Kara had ever heard before spoke, seeming to ring from all the corners of the universe itself. The voice rang with the promise of untold power, but it also echoed with a softness that comforted her, healing all the hurts that had ever been inflicted upon her. _

_The slavers on Mindoir, watching her parents and younger sister slaughtered by Batarians. Helpless as her entire unit was slaughtered by Thresher Maws on Akuze. Killing Li's mother on Noveria, the guilt eating her away inside. Dying alone in the cold of space, then waking up, friendless and alone. Liara's rejection. Killing three-hundred-thousand to save the rest of the galaxy. Earth burning while she turned tail and ran. Mordin's death on Tuchanka. Thane murdered by Kai Leng. Thessia's hallowed cities crumbling. Her second death. _

_"Child." The voice spoke, an all of Kara's troubles just faded away. She felt truly human for the first time that she could remember. "You have been a victim of prophesy, of unrealistic expectations. You have done the best you could under all of the circumstances."_

_"But why did I fail?" Kara shouted out, tears streaming freely down her face. "Everyone was counting on me and I failed!"_

_"Child, you have achieved so much more than all of your previous lives." The voice quietly spoke, reassuring, a mother to a wounded child. "Your one problem is that you trusted the Catalyst. You expected the being that controlled the Reapers to be telling you the truth. True Synthesis would have left the entire galaxy as slaves to the Reapers. Control would have simply left you trapped inside their consciousness, only able to helplessly watch as they destroyed everything that you loved. Choosing to destroy the Reapers would have killed you, and they would have continued on unimpeded. The Crucible was not the way."_

_Kara let that process through her mind. "There was nothing I could have done?"_

_"No." The voice said apologetically. "Your destiny had already been written."_

_"So I'm always doomed to failure?" Kara asked dejectedly._

_"Not anymore, Child." The voice was tender, encouraging. "This time you know what to do. You have all of the knowledge that you will need, you just have to push yourself forward. You may yet fail, but it will ultimately be up to you. This time you go as my chosen. You are my Champion for the light. You can succeed."_

_Kara found herself confused. Champion? "What do you mean?"_

_"The time has come for me to take back what is mine," the voice rose in power and Kara felt her knees give, dropping into a bow. The light pulsed majestically, and Kara found she had no problem with bowing to this being. "For to long has my enemy controlled the universe, all that I have created. It is time to finally take it back. You are my Champion. You will lead the fight, and you will have everything that I can offer to aid you."_

_There was a massive clanging, and Kara turned, surprise on her face. Standing before her was an army the likes of which she had never seen before. Beings so powerful that they looked like they could tear a Reaper in two with just their hands. They were so numerous that Kara couldn't even begin to number them. As one, they saluted, and the gesture had never before been so intimidating. Shaken, Kara saluted them back. _

_"The war will play out in your plane of existence. Many horrible, monstrous things will occur before it is over," the voice sounded angered and sad at that. "My armies will not come in the form you see before you, but they will be there nonetheless. Take comfort child. You will need it for what is to come."_

_"Kara."_

_Shepard froze at the sound of the feminine voice. Her heart swelled excitedly as she turned around, grunting as Liara launched herself at her, enveloping her in a breath taking hug. _

_Kara laughed as Liara peppered her face with kisses. "Li! What?"_

_Liara pulled back, her arms wrapped around Kara's shoulders. "I love you Kara. Remember that when times are tough. I'll always be with you."_

_Pulling Liara into a hug again, Kara clutched her as tightly to herself as possible. "I don't want this to end."_

_"We will be together again," Liara whispered into Kara's ear. "But there are things that must happen first. You need to prepare the galaxy for the Reapers."_

_Confused, Kara pulled back. "Prepare the galaxy for the Reapers? What are you talking about, Li?"_

_"In time, Kara," Liara smiled at her lover. "You'll understand."_

#

Karl Agathon wasn't completely sure of what to make of this new Kara... Shepard, Thrace, whatever the hell her last name was. He had been one of Kara's closest friends before she died in the Viper explosion. They had gone through the Academy together, and it was Karl who was always carrying Kara home from the bars after she had had enough to kill five grown men. Her death had hit him hard, and it was only with Sharon's help that he was able to make it through.

But now she was back from the dead.

Sort of.

The whole situation confused him.

The Demetrius' loudspeakers crackled to life, distracting Karl from his thoughts.

"Board is green." Sharon's voice sounded tinny through the speakers, but hearing her still made him smile. "The clock is running. Commencing Jump Seventy-Eight in five, four, three, two, Jump!"

Karl could feel as the Demetrius folded in on itself, jumping faster than light closer to their destination. That also boggled his mind, the destination. He was leading the way to Earth, all on the words of Not-Kara.

The Demetrius unfolded mere moments after it jumped. Sharon's voice crackled over the speakers again. "Jump complete. Next jump in thirty minutes."

With a sigh, Karl rolled out of his bunk, running a hand through his hair. Sleep was shaping up to be impossible with all the thoughts running through his head. Pulling his duty uniform off the floor, he gave it a quick sniff, recoiling at the smell. The Demetrius might be a waste management ship, but obviously its builders never cared about crew hygiene. There was only one shower, and it was a toss up on whether water would come out or... other stuff.

Pulling on the uniform, Karl didn't bother to button it up. No one else on the crew bothered, and as the commanding officer he wasn't inclined to make them start now.

Stepping out of his quarters, Karl stretched, letting out a yawn as he made his way towards the bridge.

"No!" A voice echoed down the dirty halls, making Karl stop. He had never heard such a desperate, lonely sounding cry.

Standing in the hall, silence fell upon the cold metal corridor. Karl listened, waiting for anything, a sign of where the cry had come from.

"No..."

Karl had to strain to hear the whispered voice.

"No, Liara! Please... don't leave me."

It was coming from Kara's quarters. Karl hesitated outside the hatch, wondering what he should do. He had been friends with Kara Thrace, but this Kara had never actually known him.

"Please, Liara." Kara whimpered inside her quarters and Karl couldn't help but hurt in sympathy for the woman. "I can't go on without you."

Making up his mind, Karl opened the hatch, quietly stepping inside.

The room was dark, only lit by the light seeping in from the corridor. "Kara?"

There was a soft rustling, before suddenly Karl found himself lifted off the floor, his arms locking to his sides his head painfully held back, throat bared. The room was bathed in an ethereal blue and orange glow, and there was a searing heat at his neck.

"What are you doing, Agathon?" A voice coldly spoke from the darkness. Karl found that he couldn't see past the glowing light. "Here to kill me? Did Roslin order it? Adama? Or did you just want to do it for yourself?!" The searing heat pressed closer to Karl's neck and he began to furiously wish he wasn't trapped and immobile.

"WHAT?!" Karl wanted to fight against whatever was holding him, but all he could move was his head. "I heard you having a nightmare and I came to see if you were alright!" Karl closed his eyes, not wanting to witness his own final moments alive.

The room was silent for several tense moments and Karl's heart beat a mile a minute.

Suddenly he could move again and he dropped to the floor, the searing heat disappearing from his neck. Cracking open a single eye, Karl watched as the a glowing blade seemingly disappeared into Kara's arm. She was wreathed in a shimmering blue halo, but that too disappeared after a moment. He didn't know what to make of that.

Pushing himself up off the ground, Karl rubbed at his neck, wincing at the blisters.

Kara dropped onto her bunk, rolling over so her back faced Karl.

He stood there awkwardly for a moment before flipping the light on. Kara made no move to protest. He kept standing there, waiting for her to acknowledge him before finally thinking to himself. _Frak it. She looks like she needs to talk_. He promptly sat down in the only chair in the room. "So... what was that?"

"Me almost killing you," Kara said dangerously.

"Yeah. Thanks for not doing that. My wife likes me alive." Karl rubbed the back of his neck. "But come on. I can see that you need to get something off your chest."

"Why the fuck would I tell you?" Kara had a hint of anger in her voice, and it carried promises of pain if Karl continued his questioning.

"Because you need to talk to someone. Even I can see that! Come on, I promise that I won't tell anyone. Whatever it is, you need to talk about it before you go crazy." Karl smiled encouragingly, even though Kara couldn't see him.

The silence grew and Karl found himself twitching.

"Get the fuck out, Agathon." Kara said, the blue glow wreathing around her again. Karl jumped in surprise as the lightbulb exploded, leaving the room in darkness once again.

Karl scrambled out of the room as quickly as possible, securing the hatch before hurrying towards the bridge. An angry Kara Thrace was bad enough. A Kara with super-powers was something that he simply didn't want to deal with.

Walking onto the bridge, he found that it was pretty much empty. Only Sharon stood, waiting for the FTL drive to spin up again. The jumps had quickly gotten monotonous and the whole crew had to constantly take breaks to keep from being overwhelmed.

"Hey, are you alright?" Sharon asked, concerned. Karl realized that she had somehow moved to stand right in front of him without him noticing. "You look anxious."

Pulling his wife into a hug, Karl had to think about how he was going to respond. "We're flying bling here, Sharon. We're trusting the word of a woman who came back from the dead but claims to be someone else. It just worries me..." He finished lamely.

Laughing, Sharon stole a kiss, turning back to study the various monitors. "We'll find out if she's telling the truth tomorrow. Speculating won't do anyone any good." She flipped the intercom on.

"Board is green. The clock is running. Commencing Jump Seventy-Nine in 5, 4, 3, 2, Jump!"

The Demetrius folded in on itself as it jumped closer to Earth.

#

AUTHORS NOTE:

This is a fanfiction. The Extended Cut fixed the ending, but it still wasn't really what I wanted to see happen. It just made it bearable. This story is not canon, and it will not be going were any of you have predicted (so far).

Also, to Robo Reader 21: You're right about the omni-tools, but I'm taking liberties (read: too lazy to go back and fix that). On the matter of helmet mounted I cameras I point to two examples. Number 1- The helmet cam in Mass Effect 1, the footage of which is picked up by the Normandy. Number 2A- The gopro camera is small tech for 2012. Imagine what they will have in one-hundred-seventy-one years. Number 2B-The Land Warrior system, though cancelled, would only be logical for a military so advanced to have an extreme iteration of in the Mass Effect universe.

The only reason that I feel a lot of these things were excluded from the game of Mass Effect was because of the fact that it would have disrupted gameplay.


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

The Arrival

The bridge had become a hive of activity as the Demetrius neared the end of its journey.

"Jump Complete. Next jump in thirty minutes," Sharon didn't bother speaking into the loudspeakers. Everyone but Kara was here, and that wasn't necessarily unwelcome by the crew. They all found her extremely off-putting.

"This is just an observation mission," Karl reminded the small group of pilots around him. They weren't actually needed to jump the ship, but this was were all the action was. "Remember that. We're just seeing if Earth is here, taking a few scans and pretty pictures for the President then jumping back. Got that?"

"Yes sir!" The chorus of replies came back. None of them knew what they were going to be facing, but they were all dressed in their flight suits, helmets in hand. They were ready at a moments notice for trouble. Before the final jump, they would wait in their ships in case what Kara had told the leaders of the fleet was the truth.

"Good." Karl nodded. There was a knot of tension that had settled in his stomach and it had decided that it wanted to make a home. The next hour was going to change human history for all time. "Get to your ships. We're jumping in thirty."

The pilots saluted Karl before filing out of the bridge, leaving Karl and Sharon alone.

"This is it." Sharon spoke only after she was sure all the pilots were out of hearing range. "I'm not feeling too optimistic about this whole mission."

Karl nodded in agreement but didn't bother to say anything.

As the pilots jogged through the hallways, they secured their helmets as they neared the airlock. Going EVA to get to the vipers was not fun, and none of them particularly enjoyed it, but it had to be done so they did it grimly and with scowls on their faces.

They all jumped in surprise when they heard a surprised shout over the comm lines. Turning, their eyes all widened in fear.

"Pilots, what's your status?" Karl asked through one of the radios. He got nothing but silence in return. "Hardball, do you copy? What's your status?"

Silence.

Sharon and Karl shared a worried glance. "I'm going to go see what's happening." Karl turned to leave but stopped when he found Kara blocking the way.

"Your pilots are alive, Agathon," Kara stalked into the room, keeping both Agathon's in sight. "I'm taking the ship."

"What? Are you insane?!" Karl shouted at Kara. Was this woman out of her mind? They were doing what she wanted, why would she need to take the ship? "We're helping you, Kara!"

"No." She shook her head, and with a clench of her fists she was wreathed in what seemed to be blue shimmering flame. "You're not." With a toss of her hand, the blue flame surrounded both Agathon's trapping them in place. "I'm not going to hurt you, but I need the ship."

Kara was in no hurry as she glided forward, rendering first Sharon then Karl unconscious. She tied them up with zip-ties that she had managed to find, laying them next to each other on the other side of the room.

"You are doing the right thing, Kara," Liara spoke softly to Kara. She stood on the other side of the navigation table, a grim smile on her face. "They can't get in the way of what needs to happen."

Kara nodded at Liara, unsure of how she was actually there, but it didn't really matter in her mind. Any chance of being with her lover, even if it was imaginary, was welcome.

The moment that the FTL drive read as ready, Kara made the final jump.

#

The call that heralded the change of the world came at three in the morning. The message was extremely brief, simply: "Code Black, Agent Osborne."

That was how Matthew Osborne found himself kissing his wife and children goodbye for what may be the last time in months. He climbed into his black Ford LTD Crown Victoria and he was quickly on his way towards Peterson Airforce Base. His thoughts raced, and his speedometer reflected his hurried thoughts as it quickly climbed higher than legal. Code Black had never been issued once in the entire forty year history of the Agency. Its meaning had been drilled into all agents to ensure that all would instantly recognize its importance.

_Confirmed non-terrestrial contact, intentions unknown. All Agents to return to base immediately. The United States of America is now at Defcon One. _

It took Matthew no more than thirty minutes to reach Peterson. The guards quickly ushered him through the moment they saw his badge, a line of other Agents beginning to form behind him. The badge of an Agent was an infamous thing around the base. The Agents had clearances higher than most of the highest in the military, and they knew all the secrets that came along with that clearance. The airmen on the base found them a generally friendly bunch (which they found oddly amusing for a top-secret black project), but no one knew what exactly they did or where exactly they went to go do their work on the base. Somehow, the Agency had managed to keep all mentions from the public eye. That had led to rumors on the base, ranging from "government hit-squad" to "Government payrolled Warlocks protecting the United States from the Dark Lord Sauron."

All of the Agents got a chuckle from that one, and the unofficial title of the Agency quickly became W.A.S. (Warlocks Against Sauron) after that one began circulating.

Pulling into the closest parking space, Matthew took off running. He darted through the halls of the main building, ignoring the surprised cry of whoever was unlucky enough to up at three in the morning.

The Agency, for all the people that knew of its Agents, was one of the best kept secrets in the United States of America. Careful, cautious planning had ensured that no one not a part of the Agency ever actually knew the truth about its existence and purpose. The Director of the Agency had gone to such lengths that he orchestrated the construction of Norad to divert attention from the building of the Agency's headquarters, a mile underneath Peterson Airforce Base. It had been difficult, but no one was the wiser.

Entering a door locked by a simple key, Michael walked past empty office after empty office. This part of the base was restricted from all other personnel, but it was little more than a red herring. They kept the illusion of office space incase something ever happened.

Which it wouldn't. No one knew of their existence after all.

Stopping, Michael opened a janitor's closet, pushing brooms aside to get to the wall behind. Memory guided his fingers as he pressed a hidden button, which silently opened a hidden keypad beyond the bottles of window cleaners. He quickly jabbed his code into the keypad shut the door to the janitor's closet behind him. The moment that the door closed, the wall in front of him slid open on oiled hinges, revealing a small square room, pristine and painted white.

In the middle of the room, painted directly on the center of the floor, was a small blue box, no wider than one square foot.

Without any hesitation, Michael stood in the blue box, waiting patiently.

The room lit up as scanners covered every inch of Michael, checking innumerable measurable figures. After several moments, a green light illuminated inside of the wall, giving him the all clear. A door slid open in the wall, revealing a modestly sized elevator. The moment he was inside, it dropped, speeding down as fast as possible. It stopped with a sudden jerk.

Michael practically broke through the door leading into the Agencies actual operations center. While the decoy outside had been filled with what most people would expect from an intelligence agency, the actual Agency operations center was like something out of a science fiction novel.

The operations center of the Agency was a hive of activity. Computers fifteen years ahead of their time were on every desk, and massive televisions embedded in the walls surrounding the Floor gave real time information on ever single activity that the Agency was involved in. Hundreds of people on the Floor ran back and forth, all having conversations with at least a half dozen other people. The din was hard to hear over, but Michael payed it no mind.

Michael jogged up a flight of stairs to the Nest, a large office that hung suspended over the Floor. Floor to ceiling windows gave a birds eye view of everything happening below. Four other Agents sat in chairs in front of the Director's desk, and taking a seat in the only empty chair, Michael watched Director Leonard Vance as he talked hurriedly into his phone.

"Victor, there isn't anything that we are trying to hide!" Vance rubbed the bridge of his nose, ignoring the Agents sitting before him. His face grew cold as he stood up, his voice arctic. "Don't give me that bullshit, Chebrikov! This is not our doing! Call me back when you're willing to talk without shouting!"

Slamming the phone down, Vance took a moment to cool down, taking a deep swig of coffee before slumping down into his leather office chair. A minute passed and the Agents all waited quietly for Vance to speak.

"You all got the message." It wasn't a question. They wouldn't be here if they hadn't. "It has been confirmed. Our satellites have picked it up, the Soviet's have picked it up, and it won't be long before its coming out of every radio on the planet."

Michael and the other Agents all glanced at each other, none of them knowing what Vance was actually saying.

Vance pursed his lips at their confusion. "Right..." Typing on his computer, he turned his speakers on. "We first received this signal an hour ago. We've managed to trace it to the outer edge of the Solar System, and its getting closer. It should pass Uranus any minute now." With a sharp press of a button, a recording started to play.

Static crackled from the speakers, "-mandy. Does anyone copy. I repeat, this is Commander Shepard. Alliance Command, does anyone read? This is Commander Shepard, captain of the Normandy. Admiral Hackett? Does anyone copy? I repeat-"

Michael slumped back into his seat with shock. "Is this a hoax, sir?"

Vance shook his head, draining his coffee. " 'Fraid not. This is the genuine, definite article." He stretched out the 'u' in genuine, giving it a bit of twang. "Things are about to change people, and there's no way to tell in what ways."

"What are we going to tell the President?" One of the other Agents asked. "Are we going to inform him?"

Vance nodded. "We need to be the first to tell him. We still have some time before the other agencies even begin to hear anything. Wilson, you're on that. A plane is waiting. You'll be briefed on everything that we know on the flight. Get moving."

Agent Wilson nodded, leaving the room. The rest of the Agents kept watching Vance.

"We need to get a return message to whoever it is up there! We need to do it yesterday, people! Get moving!" Vance motioned for them to get out of the Nest. "Move it like we're at war!"

#

The USS Carl Vinson was one of the most powerful ships in the ocean, on the cutting edge of technology. Rear Admiral David Simpson stood on the bridge, a cup of coffee in his hands as he watched his battle group cruise along. David couldn't help but feel a shiver of pride. He controlled one of the most powerful weapons on the planet.

It certainly was empowering.

"Sir."

The voice of Captain Samuel Hanson broke David out of his thoughts. Turning, he found the younger man standing behind him, his face pale. "Hanson? Are you alright? You look ill."

"Sir," Captain Hanson ignored the Rear Admiral's concern. "President Reagan is asking for you."

"Did he give any reason why?" David couldn't help but feel confused. The Carl Vinson's Battle Group was preforming routine maneuvers. To be called away from training would only be done under an extreme situation. To have the President of the United States calling was not an everyday occurrence, and it could only be for several reasons, none of them particularly appealing.

"No. He's waiting on the line." Captain Hanson gestured at the red phone at the back of the bridge.

Handing his now empty coffee cup to the Captain, David walked over to the Captain's chair. He took a seat, picking up the phone. "Mr. President, sir?"

"Admiral Simpson."

David sat back at the sound of President Reagan's voice. "Yes, Mr. President?"

"Admiral Simpson, your battle group is being placed in wartime status. You are to take up position at Chesapeake Bay and join with the Dwight D. Eisenhower in protecting Washington."

"Sir?" David was glad he was sitting. "Are we at war."

Reagan was silent for a moment. "I pray to God that we are not. You should to. Await further instructions upon arrival." The line went dead.

Numb, David hung the red phone back in its receiver. He slumped back in the chair, staring out the windows. He ignored the stares of the crew around him.

Silence had fallen on the bridge.

"Sir? What are our orders?" Captain Hanson asked quietly.

David sat still for several more moments. He didn't know what, how, or why, but the world was about to change. Two Carrier battle-groups defending Washington could mean nothing else.

Finding his strength, David stood, feeling the weight of his years. "Give me the fleet."

One of the officers quickly connected him to the fleet.

Taking a moment to gather his thoughts, David picked up the nearest radio. "This is Rear-Admiral David Simpson onboard the USS Carl Vinson." He paused, looking at the faces of the young people all around him. "Orders have come in from the very top, the highest authority. Our President has ordered us to return home. We are to lay anchor at Chesapeake bay and prepare for the worst. I urge all of you now to make peace with your God. The world is going to be a very different place, and I wish you all the best of luck."

He hung the radio up with a heavy heart.

"Plot a course home, Captain," David ordered before he turned and left the bridge.

#

Charlie Lawson was not an amazing man, nor was he actually that remarkable. He held down a steady job, had a loving wife, two kids, and a nice house in a quiet neighborhood. Charlie was happy with his life. He worshipped at the local Baptist church every sunday, and if there was no reason for doing something, he just simply didn't do it.

That's why it came as a surprise to him, and millions of other men and women across the globe, as the nightly news came on.

"America threatened!" The stately voice of Tom Brokaw played over the TV of many American households. "Aircraft Carriers patrolling outside Washington. All active duty soldiers being recalled for duty. The National Guard is mobilizing."

Charlie sat stunned, the sound of his wife screaming at the kids just a buzz of background noise to him. "Darling, come take a look at this!"

"This morning," Tom Brokaw continued, footage from a helicopter playing onscreen. Two massive aircraft carriers lay anchored at the mouth of Chesapeake bay, their battle groups slowly patrolling around them, the folks of Maryland got a rude awakening, the sound of F-18 fighter jets flying the skies above.

Charlie watched, completely entranced at the images coming across the screen. Fort Bragg was bustling with activity, as if preparing for an invasion. Fortifications were being erected and artillery was placed. The White House was no different. It seemed that every single inch of space was filled by a soldier armed to the teeth with the deadliest weapons available.

"The images you are seeing are worrying. Are we at war?" Tom Brokaw spoke over the video playing. "The White House has declined to answer, but we are receiving reports that similar situations are occurring around the globe. The Soviet Union is digging in deep, preparing for-"

The video cut back to the studio, and Charlie watched as Tom Brokaw stared off camera at someone who was whispering urgently to him. The reporter looked shaken.

"I-ah... We have just received a transmission that appears to be the source to all of this activity." Never before had the reporter seemed so frazzled. "We have confirmed that the signal is originating from just past Mars. We are going to play the transmission for you now."

The signal to TV flickered for a moment before a shaky video appeared. A dim, rusty room filled with what looked like televisions glowed in the background. In the center of the screen, huddled over the camera, stood a woman, no older than Charlie's own wife but considerably better looking. Her blonde hair was tangled and she looked like she hadn't slept for several days.

"If anybody is reading this, my name is Commander Kara Shepard with the Systems Alliance." Her voice was a surprise coming out of the speakers. She sounded exhausted, but there was an undercurrent of strength. This was a woman you didn't want to cross. "If there are any survivors hearing this, please respond. I should be in orbit above Earth in another five hours. Where is the Relay? What happened to the Citadel?" She took a breath, wiping sweat from her brow. "I need to get in touch with Admiral Hackett, or whoever the hell is in charge of Alliance command. I'll try sending this message again in thirty minutes."

The video broke to static, and quickly the signal switched back to the NBC studios. Tom sat in his chair, slack-jawed, before subtle coughing off-camera seemed to pull him back to reality.

"I-" He looked off camera again, nodding after a moment. "We will be back shortly."

The signal ended abruptly, leaving nothing but static on the TV.

Nothing would ever be the same again.

#

AN:

HA! I bet none of you were expecting that!

Seriously though, things are about to get wild. All I can say is "Hold onto your butts."


	8. Chapter 8

Contact

Director Vance stood in the Nest, watching the bustle of activity on the Floor below him. The men and women below him had been working practically for two days straight, ever since the moment that the signal had first been received. Since that moment, they had been working as hard as possible to figure out whether or not they should even respond or sound the drums of war.

Any moment now, the White House would be calling. It was a regrettable need to actually inform the President of the Agencies existence, but there was no other way around it. The Agency needed to lead the charge in contact. No one else could be trusted. Not the CIA. Not the FBI. Not the DoD. Not the KGB. Especially not the KGB.

Vance turned to glare at the red-phone on his desk. He was beginning to feel the strain, but he was at the top. There was no one to replace him, so he simply poured himself another cup of coffee and pushed on through it.

The phone rang.

Taking a deep breath, Vance answered the red phone on his desk. "Yes?"

"Please hold for the President," a calm, collected voice said. The line went silent for a moment and Vance sank down into his chair.

After a moment, the line picked back up and Vance straightened up, leaning forward on his desk.

"Director Leonard Vance?" The unmistakable voice of President Reagan rang through the line.

"Yes, Mr. President." Vance respectfully answered, drumming his fingers on his desk.

"You see here, Mr. Vance," Reagan continued on. "I have yet to actually be informed what you are the Director of. I am a very busy man, and more so due to recent events that I am sure you aware of."

"Mr. President," Vance rolled his eyes. "I am the Director of the Homeworld Protection Agency, formed in 1939 by President Roosevelt. We were created for scenarios just like this one."

Reagan was silent for a moment. "... I don't like things being kept from me." His voice was reprimanding, but Vance could care less. The HPA was autonomous from actual government oversight. "What do you suggest, Director?"

"My people can take care of this. We can make sure that everything goes smoothly, assuming that this Commander Shepard is not here to start a war." Vance was fairly sure that she wasn't, scans so far had not picked up any weaponry that posed any serious threats to the planet. "We can make first contact the moment that you give the order, Mr. President."

Reagan was silent and Vance spun in his chair.

"Do it," was the simple, resigned reply.

"Yes, Mr. President." Vance hung up the phone.

#

Kara Thrace took a long swig of water, grimacing at the taste of her unbrushed teeth, spitting it out over the already rusted floor. Her mouth as clean as she was going to be able to get it, she downed the entire bottle.

Two days.

Two full days in the Sol System, and there hadn't even been so much as a "Hello Commander Shepard, good to see you again!" There hadn't been a single transmission on any of the Systems Alliance frequencies.

Nothing. The DRADIS was eerily empty. There was no sign of the Citadel. No sign of the thousands of wreckages that should be littering space.

Kara was a hard woman, but she felt fear in her gut at that fact. Was there anyone left alive? Had the Reapers won, despite her best attempt? There was no way to know.

On the plus side, it had been relatively easy to keep the Colonials contained. There wasn't much that fighter jocks could do against an N7 Operative with biotic powers to rival the Asari. She made sure that they had food and water and weren't getting up to any trouble, but aside from that, Kara couldn't bring herself to care about what they were doing.

The console beeped, shaking Kara out of her thoughts. Turning to look, there was a flashing sign on the Comms screen, and with renewed energy Kara could feel her hopes begin to rise. Someone was contacting her! She latched onto the signal as quickly as possible. Immediately, she was met with static from the bridges speakers. For several moments, Kara had a horrible sinking feeling in her stomach. Just a rogue radio wave. Nothing real.

"Commander Shepard."

The voice made her jump in surprise. It took her a moment to realize that it had come from the speakers, and she laughed quietly to herself. Moving faster than she had for a long time, Kara dashed to the console. "Hello! Is anyone there? This is Commander Shepard!"

"We read you, Commander." The voice was music to her ears, and Kara could feel tears of relief welling in her eyes.

"I need to get in contact with Admiral Hackett." Finally she was getting somewhere. She could get off this godforsaken ship and reunite with Liara. First thing she was doing the moment her boots hit dirt was find the nearest captain, priest, or justice of the peace. There was a wedding to be had!

"I'm sorry Commander, but we don't have any Admirals serving under that name."

At that, the seed of worry firmly replaced itself in Kara's heart. "What? What are you talking about? He is acting Commander in Chief. Did he die?"

"We don't know ma'am." The voice was male, steady. Definitely human. What in the world was going on? "My name is Director Leonard Vance, and I am speaking on behalf of the planet Earth. What has brought you to our planet? How are you able to speak our language?"

If Kara had been anyone else, that would have knocked her on her ass. Welcome to the planet Earth? No Admiral named Hackett? This wasn't happening. It was a joke! It had to be. No other explanation. That made Kara's brow furrow in frustration. When she found out who was responsible for this, they were going to be scrubbing latrines for the rest of their lives.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Kara could feel her frustration turning to anger. "This isn't the time for jokes! Put me through to Alliance command!"

"Ma'am, there is no organization on this planet known as the Systems Alliance," the man that called himself Vance insisted. "I am a citizen of the United States of America. Are your intentions friendly, or hostile?"

The situation was becoming more and more confusing by the second. The United States of America? All that Kara knew was that it was some super-power during the 20th century. She had never really paid attention to her teachers during history class. There had been better things to do, like doodle spaceships.

She was starting to regret that decision.

"The United States of America?" Kara asked. "What are you talking about? They haven't been around since finding the..."

It all clicked. Everything fell into place inside Kara's mind and the worry and doubt were replaced by something entirely. An odd mixture of relief, confusion, and anger. "Son of a bitch," she muttered to herself. "Stupid bosh'tet." The damn crucible hadn't been a complete crock! It just did something completely unexpected that no one had ever even remotely imagined it might do.

"What year is it?" Kara needed to confirm.

"It is January 21, 1982," Vance replied calmly. He had absolutely no clue what was happening, Kara couldn't help but think. Completely oblivious to the galaxy at large, the problems awaiting humanity. Never for one moment did Kara doubt that Vance was telling the truth. It made far more sense than she cared to admit.

The damn crucible was a time machine.

Well, it wasn't, but something malfunctioned (she personally blamed the Rachni for that one) and now here she was. Stuck on a ship that processed shit, over a primitive Earth, all without Liara.

"I..." Kara started, but stopped, unsure how to proceed. She hadn't planned for any of this. "I request asylum." A plan quickly began to form in Kara's mind. A crazy, ludicrous, absolutely insane plan. It could be completely disastrous, but it could save everyone. "I request asylum on the behalf of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol. We offer technology in return for shelter and supplies."

AN:

I am sorry that it took so long to post a new chapter. I have been caught up in work, and writing a feature length screenplay. I will try to post more consistent updates, but no promises.

Also, to the person who posted the scathing comment. You were assuming, and that's not good for anyone. This story is heading in a very specific direction that I already have planned out, and I'm sorry that you are disappointed.


End file.
